


Fears

by Awryen



Series: OTP: Moonlighting [8]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awryen/pseuds/Awryen
Summary: Mry'da has some misgivings about the upcoming finale to the Great Hunt.





	Fears

No no no. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way. She was a goddamn finalist in the Great Hunt. She’d taken down every single competitor and bounty that had been sent or gotten in her way. So why did this one bounty have her feeling cold and feeling so unconfident?

It had been a few weeks since Mry'da and Gault had finished with Alderaan (they would have been done long before had they not been entangled in the succession war), so they had all taken the time to relax, restock on much needed supplies (she and Gault had set up a nice little scheme that involved the dead Tyresius clone. talk about a much needed payout), and just took a break before hitting the last leg of the Hunt.

But now, here she was, the night before the last bounty take down, and she was having a nervous break. She had gone to Mako earlier, but the nineteen year old hadn’t been much help. She’d tried, oh had she tried, but all she really could say was “Keep your chin up!! You have the skills necessary to take him down. I have faith in you!”

As much as a confidence boost that _could_ be, it didn’t really assuage her fears, irrational though they were.

So, for the past hour, the Chiss had been pacing around her quarters, still in her armor, and just trying to calm herself down.

_‘I’m an excellent shot. The rail gun is fully charged and operational. My missile stock has been replenished. It’s only a Jedi! They aren’t invincible. Sure they have the Force on their side, but that can only do so much. Plus, I’ll have Gault with me. He’d be in a great position to take shots at the target. So why am I so ansty?! Is it Tarro? He’s a coward. I’m sure he’d be no challenge to me. Ugh.’_

Mry'da stopped pacing, her hands clutching her head. Then she straightened up, sniffing, and walked out her door.

_‘That’s who I’ll talk to. Gault should have some advice….oh what am I thinking? Of course he does. Run. That's what he’d say.’_

She remembered her over confident declaration a few days back.

_"Jedi are all talk."_

_Gault snorted and glared at her, stating,_ _"No,_ I'm _all talk. Jedi Masters are something else entirely."_

Stopping outside the crew quarters, not realizing she’d already gotten there, Mry'da began to doubt herself. She was about to turn around and head back upstairs, but the door opened before she could leave.

“ _Helloooo._ What’re you doing down here amongst the _servants_ , boss?” Gault asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

_‘Shit. Guess I can’t back out now.’_

She snorted, “You are _no_ servant and you know that, Gault.”

“ _Damn straight._ Besides, I’d be undermining you for everything if that were the case.”

“What are you talking about? You do that _all the time_. It’s like your life’s goal,” she said, rolling her eyes, leaning against the door.

“I try. But you dodged my question. What’s up? You need something? Or….you thinking of that _job_ again?” Gault smirked, his eyes going dark slightly with lust and his brows wiggling.

Mry'da blushed a pretty shade of purple and snorted, “ _No._ I had come down thinking I could get some advice about something, but I’m not sure you’d _deliver_ …”

Gault cocked his head to the side, raking his eyes over her…but not in a predatory way, but in more of a thoughtful way instead.

“You’re nervous.”

She froze. Was she _that_ transparent? Damn. She straightened up and turned her back to him, her posture very much on the defensive.

“Not really. Just pre-job jitters. They’ll pass. Happens all the time.”

“ _Bullshit_.” She flinched. “You’re spooked because you’re gonna face a Jedi Master for the first time. And you get to face this _Tarro_ fellow you and Mako keep _grousing_ about. Admit it, you’re running scared right now.”

He crossed his arms and walked out around her, blocking her get away. Mry'da studiously looked anywhere but at him. Finally, she glared at him and tried to walk past him, but he moved and blocked her again.

“Oh no. No no. _You_ came down here for _a reason_ and I’m not letting you leave till you get your answers.”

She glared at Gault, her face going purple in anger. Fuck him!! So what if she was scared? He had no right to keep her here. It was her damn ship!!

She pushed past him this time, but she then found herself slammed into the wall. She struggled against his grip, but he kept his hold on her _. ‘Fuck he’s strong!’_

“Hey, _hey!!_ Calm the fuck down, this isn’t gonna do you any favors and it’s giving me a headache,” Gault gripped her arms a little more, pressing her into the wall. Her struggling began to subside and she kept her head down, determined not to look at him. God this was embarrassing. She was acting like a child!!

When she stopped, he let her go.

Standing there in front of him, she felt so out of sorts. Mry'da finally looked up, hating herself even more for what she revealed. He grimaced slightly.

Tears were streaming down her face. She didn’t even properly know why, but she was upset.

Gault looked uncomfortable, but he said “Hey, um…how about we head to the galley and go get a drink, huh? I think we both need one.”

With that he turned and headed off. At first, she was stubbornly thinking about staying exactly where she was, but he’d be back either way. And the next time, he’d probably pick her up. So, Mry'da stood up and followed after him.

* * *

Five minutes later, they both had drinks in hand, her a Bloody Mando and he a few fingers of Cassandran Brandy (how the hell he got that, she didn’t really want to know).

They sat in silence, both sipping at their drinks. Mry'da was staring at the table top, he was leaned back in the chair, just swishing the drink around. After a few more minutes, Gault finally put his drink down.

“Alright. _Spill._ Why are you so nervous?”

Mry'da hesitated, but she finally said “I…don’t know. Not really. Tarro Blood will be a piece of cake. But Kellian Jarro is a whole ‘nother matter.” She paused to take a larger swallow of her drink, then continued, “Growing up in the underbelly of Coruscant…well…things like the Force were an unknown entity. The Jedi never ventured down into the depths. Even they saw the underbelly as an untouchable, forever tainted, never to be saved haven for criminals and the lost. Those who ended up Force sensitive were either killed or on the run. Those who survived never trusted the Jedi and usually found a ship, were they able, to go anywhere else but stay there.”

Gault raised a brow at her, but he knew of her past in the Underbelly. She'd told him about her brief life there and her struggles after her parents had been killed. How he'd helped her out, though she hadn't known that at the time.

However, even he knew how the Underbelly was treated and was not at all surprised she was never aroound Jedi before becoming a Bounty Hunter.

“So…you’re nervous because you have no true experience with a being of the Force, is that it? We _have_ fought small fry, you know.”

“I know that. But for whatever reason, my old fears are coming back. I’d heard stories of disenfranchised people, especially other aliens, talking about how Jedi manipulated those with Force sensitive children into giving them up. Families were broken because of that. Or how they had no mercy for anyone who was trained but rejected their dogma.”

Mry'da gulped down what was left of her drink and handed the glass to Gault. He silently mixed her another, taking a few minutes to allow them both to gather their thoughts.

"Then there’s of course the Empire with their edicts on Force sensitives. _"Become Sith or die."_ Those who don’t die usually become blood thirsty assholes hell bent on power and domination. Very few are like our Sith friend, Ser’ise, who’s desperately trying to change the Empire into something better. Or my best friend who’s a Force sensitive, but deliberately told the Jedi to "fuck off" and instead became the next up and coming Nok Drayen."

Gault snorted at that, “ _I_ would have become that had I not had a little _bounty_ on my head…” he grumbled. Mry'da just smirked. Then she sighed.

"I don’t know how I’m gonna react tomorrow…we could very well _die_ , Gault. And it’d come down on me."

He glanced at her and had to look away. Her face was just too heart wrenching with her crippling fear. Fear of the unknown and fear of causing their deaths...

Gault downed his glass of brandy, refilled it, and downed half that glass. Then he turned to her.

"Well, you’re right. We _could_ very well die. Or we could run...Or, we could _win_. Of which I have very high hopes of happening. Doesn’t mean I won’t be shitting my pants as I follow you into the fray, but…I’ll be behind you. Every step of the way. That lure of fortune and glory is a _hard thing_ to pass up.”

She looked up at him, her red eyes clearing up a bit and she gave him a small smile.

"So!! _In MY opinion_ …here’s what we’ll do. We’ll drink till we can’t see straight and worry about tomorrow…tomorrow. Deal? _Deal._ ”

With that he finished off his second glass and refilled it. Mry'da laughed softly and drank her drink, already feeling the potent affects of the vodka.

* * *

An hour later, they were both laughing over shared stories.

"I _cannot_ believe you got away with that. And the outcome!! _How could you eat it_ as opposed to selling it?” Gault asked, lounging on the floor. He’d finally had enough drinks (about ten…) to feel a nice buzz going on.

"Wha’ can I say? I’as ten, an orphan, and I hadn’ eaten in three days. That egg lasted me a good week in m’ little hidey hole. Was'n th' mos sanitary thing, but I wa' able to keep it frozhen."

Mry'da had told him about the time she stole the Black Sun leader’s prized Rancor egg out from under his nose. He’d been saving it as a bargaining chip with the Hutt Cartel, for Nem’ro in particular.

Gault snorted in amusement, then did a double take as Mry'da stood up.

"Uh, _honey_ , I don’t think you should doing tha-" she stumbled and ended up falling against him, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, the other against his chest."….yeah. Bad move."

"S’ry. Jus’ felt like I needed t’ stand f’r a few minutes," she said, trying to stand up straight, all the while gripping his chest harder.

He gave her a wolfish grin and asked, “Ry, _hon_ , you should probably, _oh I dunno_ …..get out of that armor. As pleasurable as it is that you’ve fallen _all over_ me, the armor plates _do_ hurt a bit when digging into my back and chest.”

Mry'da just frowned, her eyes narrowed at him. Then, in a fit of sudden sobriety, she straightened up, stepped back (oh he ‘ _spoke_ ’ too soon, she stumbled a bit), and began finding the hidden clasps in her armor. He stared at her in wide eyed shock, as her chest plate, leg plates, and boots came off, leaving her in that….delicious black cat suit underneath.

She sighed in contentment, “You’re right. S’more comfor'ble.” She traipsed back over around him and flopped against his back, pressing her bound chest into his back.

He shivered and he had to drink down one more glass of his brandy.

"You keep rubbing yourself against me…. _do not shoot me_ should I throw you over my shoulder."

Mry'da giggled, her nose and lips pressed against his head, dangerously close to his left ear.

"How’s bout youshoot _at_ me?”she purred, her hands running down his chest. He’d discarded his coat earlier, so he was only clad in his sleeveless black top.

"Ooooh, _poor choice of words_." With that, he stood up, turned around in her arms, bent down to wrap an arm around her waist, and tossed her onto his shoulder. Then he had to stop for a few seconds to get his coordination back.

"You, my _esteemed_ dear, will be sharing your quarters until morning." Gault then proceeded to head up the stairs and into her room, the door shutting behind him. Her giddy laughter followed after.

* * *

Rising into the air, Mry'da threw down one last volley of rockets, barely dodging a last, desperately thrown lightsaber when she saw Jarro fall to the floor, a mess of bloody clothes and shrapnel.

His Padawan ran over, already calling for her now lost master's name, shaking him, trying to wake him up.

Her body was humming, a slight shake to her as she cautiously walked out of her cover, spying Gault doing the same, his rifle held at the ready in his hands.

She'd done it. She had really done it. She'd faced down a fully fledged Jedi Master and defeated him in battle. Though she knew, that had she and Gault both not thrown their darts at the right moments, they could very well have been brought down had the Padawan not been subdued.

The Padawan glared at them from her position on the floor, holding her side where Mry'da spied a deep gash and a barely concealed hole in her gut. The girl was done for.

"What are you _waiting_ for, bounty hunter? Kill me just like you killed my Master! _Go on!!_ "

She looked down at the girl, a dispassionate look across her face. Gault came up beside her, peering at her to see what she would do.

Coldly, she pointed her blaster at the girl's heart, looking down and said, "Your Master died on his feet. _You_ won't."

Before she could hesitate, she pulled the trigger. The girl slumped to the floor.

At her side, Gault whistled, holstering his rifle and placing his hands on his hips.

"I do admit, boss. I'm _surprised_ you killed her."

Glancing at him from her side, Mry'da looked back down at the girl and quietly said, "I don't leave loose ends."

Staring down at the poor girl at their feet, Gault shrugged, "Don't get me wrong, I would've killed her, too."

Turning back to his boss, he took a step towards her, peering at her again as he had earlier, "I just didn't figure she'd be much _sport_ for you."

Mry'da turned to him, her face still not betraying any sort of emotion, but he could see some pity and sadness hiding in her red eyes. "She wasn't."

For the first time in a long time, he felt his heart skip a little at that. This was a woman who was usually not presented with an innocent like that Padawan. She'd be working through that one for a while.

Clearing his throat, he ssuggested, "We should set the cruiser to jump into hyperspace and deactivate the tractor beam before anyone else decides to show up. And don't forget to blast the control panel."

Mry'da just nodded, her face lighting up again with a grin.

Grinning back at her, adrenaline beginning to thrum through him once more, Gault urged her on, "Then we run!"

* * *

Mry'da and Gault both barely made it to the ship's gangway, the door closing behind them. Running up it, they yelled for Mako to take off.

"On it, boss!!" she shouted, pulling her levers hard and feeling the ship lurch, lifting from the doomed ship's hanger floor before shooting through the hanger door and back into space. They felt the slight disturbance in space as the ship finally hit it's hyperspace parameters and shot away.

Panting, Mry'da leaned against the cargo bay's wall, Gault at her side, bent forward with his hands on his knees. She could hear him grumble about being _"too old for this shit"_ under his breath.

After setting their course to autopilot, Mako came running down, her entire being screaming excitement.

"You did it! I KNEW you would! You're _amazing!"_ she exclaimed, running up to her boss and throwing her arms around her shoulders, hugging her for all she was worth.

Mry'da coughed out a laugh, hugging the younger girl back as Gault caught his breath finally.

He was grinning from one devilish ear to the other and said, "It was pretty _impressive_ work, and believe me, I _know_ impressive!"

She looked at him over Mako's head and smiled at him, a high flush to her cheeks at his praise. She took that compliment to heart, knowing he was not one to give out genuine praise often.

Mako finally stepped back and looked up at the woman who was more sister to her than boss.

"You're my _hero._ You know that, _right?"_

Beaming at the girl, she reached over and ruffled her hair. Mako just laughed and batted her hand away. Then she sobered up a bit and smiled ruefully.

"Let's focus guys. Don't want to be the crew that was _almost_ crowned Great Hunt champions."

Mako pouted and nodded.

"Right. Still...", she looked down, a sad smile on her face, "Braden would've been so _proud_. So would Soongh. You're who they were talking about when they spoke of great hunters."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Mry'da agreed, replying, "It has been _quite a ride_."

Shaking her head, Mako amended, "It hasn't all been fun, but this feels pretty good."

Gault stepped up to the two of them, placing his hands on both of their shoulders. Looking up at him, to lighten the mood he said, "And trust me, the celebration's _just_ starting."

Mako beamed, but Mry'da looked at him. His face was as happy as they were, but he was looking at her with some promise and she felt a slight flush go over her.

Breaking the tense moment between them unknowingly, Mako stated, "We should return to the Mandalorian enclave on Dromund Kaas to _officially_ inform the Huntmaster of your victory."

Moment gone, Gault broke away, tiredly walking towards the crew quarters, presumably to get a shower and some rest before they headed back to the den of the Sith. Mry'da watched him go, feeling slightly bereft.

Mako continued, "There'll be some sort of ceremony. Mandalorians are big on that. I'm sending them the news right now."

Mry'da nodded, watching the girl go before she meandered off to her own quarters upstairs.

* * *

**A few hours later...**

Dressed in a pair of comfortable lounge pants and a tank top, Mry'da was heading down stairs when she spied Gault leaving the crew quarters, in fresh clothes and bare foot.

Biting her lip, she hesitated before she called him softly, "Gault?"

He stopped, turning to look up at her. Grinning, he lazily saluted her, "Hey, Champ."

She came down the steps half way and stopped, chewing on her lip. Looking a bit confused, Gault met her rest of the way.

"What's up?"

"...do you remember that talk we had yesterday...before we intercepted the cruiser?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

"Yes, I do,” he said, leaning a hip against the railing.

"I know you were impressed with me...but _Red_...had you not been there with me, I would _not_ have made it back," she said quietly. Fidgeting a bit, she continued, "I was terrified...the entire time. Even Tarro didn't get to me. But you? You gave me the strength to keep going."

Eyes wide, Gault was speechless. Especially when she flashed him a smile he had never seen on her pretty face before. It wasn't playful, flirty, or calculating...it was heartfelt and genuine.

" _Thank you_ for being there, Gault. You had every opportunity to turn on me, but never did. And because of that, we're alive and the Champions of the Great Hunt."

Straightening up, he gave her small smile, nodded and answered, "You're welcome."

Mry'da was about to turn back up the stairs when she stopped, and threw him a look...one he was more familiar with.

"You _know_...you mentioned earlier that the _celebration_ was just starting..."

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards her, brushing her nose against his.

"I _did_ , didn't I?" he purred, wrapping an arm tight around her waist, lifting her slightly to pull her flush against his body, eliciting a squeak from her as she settled her hands against his chest, steadying herself.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear and asked, "How do you want to celebrate, Champ? Dinner...? A _few_ drinks...?"

Tracing his tongue over her ear, Gault felt her shudder and asked once more, "Or a good...hard... _fucking?_ " He bit her ear lobe, sucking it into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slide over it, easing the slight sting.

Moaning, Mry'da's knees almost gave out and Gault wrapped his other arm around her, dragging her face to his and kissing her soundly.

Breaking away, she said gruffly, "I think you just answered your own question. _You know what I damn well want._ "

He let her go and lightly pushed her up the stairs. When they came to her door, he pulled her to him again, kissing down her neck, heated open mouthed kisses. The door opened before them and she led them to her bed.

Before the door closed, the sound of clothing hit the floor and a soft cry followed soon after...


End file.
